MissWright: 'I had a nose job … now I feel hooked'

I've had a nose job. To do so, I flew to the US, because I wanted the best doctor I could find. I was totally alone – I did not tell my best friend or my mother, as I knew they would warn me of the procedure's dangers, which would have scared me. I was already frightened: I was aware of possible complications, but was just hoping that I would be lucky and have no problems.

When I went to the very posh surgery in New York, something the anaesthetist said to me really hurt: "Honey, we're gonna make you beautiful." I know he meant well.

When I came round in my hotel, my face was a mess – my eyes sore and my nose in bandages. I just kept sleeping, hoping it would turn right. When the bandages came off five days later, I was disappointed. I wanted more; more of a drastic change. I wanted to look much, much better. But instead, it was a subtle job – a good one, which doesn't look fake at all. To this day, a sense of disappointment lingers, even though I'm glad I had it done. I feel lucky, too: my cousin had the same operation done in England and hers is a mess.

Now I feel hooked. I've had laser lipo, in which a laser is inserted in your fat at a high temperature to dissolve it – your body then breaks down the liquid. It costs £15,00k per area, but don't bother – it does nothing. I've also been for a lipo consultation, which costs £2,000-3,500 per area. I'm a size 8; everyone says "don't do it, you are stupid", but it's this carrot of promise that I might look my best. I know it's bad to feel like this – especially when I see people who have real problems – but something keeps me thinking more surgery will make me better somehow.

Dr Dalvi Humzah aka DrHumzah: 'Far more men are looking for surgery'

Over the past decade my practice – plastic and dermatological surgery – has seen a huge increase in demand from both male and females. In particular, far more men are looking for surgery to remove larger male breasts (gynecomestia).

If the economy improves as hoped, I expect demand for facelifts and other facial rejuvenation surgery to increase. At the moment, the trend is for specific areas (eyelids and nose) rather than a complete facial rejuvenation. This is evident in the amount of new products entering the cosmetic industry aimed at people looking for nonsurgical and minimally invasive procedures. For example, we're currently trialling Ulthera – a noninvasive face-lifting treatment – with patients in the West Midlands.

More and more patients are coming to us with unique issues that require specialist cosmetic surgery, such as body contouring after a massive weight loss. Equally, we're seeing more breast cancer patients approaching us after being less than satisfied with the results from breast reconstruction surgery. More worryingly, we're also finding an increase in patients who have experienced problems from cheap cosmetic procedures and products often available through the internet, which are normally performed by untrained or poorly trained practitioners. The regulations are being reviewed in relation to remote prescribing and remote consultations by the Nursing and Midwifery Council and General Medical Council to try to reduce this problem. This is something both cosmetic surgeons and patients should support.

I'm very lucky because not only do I get to meet a wide range of people in my position, but I also get to use my passion, the knowledge and technical expertise (the heart, head and hands) to help people with cosmetic concerns on a one-to-one basis. I even get to see the life-changing results. Like any profession, it can also be difficult and upsetting at times to hear your patients talk about personal problem areas that affect their overall confidence. But, thankfully, this is always at the start of the patient journey, as cosmetic surgery is a fine balance between the technical aspect and the patients inner feelings.

As someone who had a nose job at 19 and never looked back, I think the hysteria surrounding plastic surgery has made many lose sight of the fact that done well and for the right reasons, it can help people. Not everyone's destiny is to turn into a freakish Barbie doll once they catch a glimpse of the scalpel.

I inherited two features of my parents' respective noses – a bump in the bridge and an end like a cherry tomato. I never sobbed in front of a mirror before going out about how hideous I was, but I would catch sight of an unflattering photo and feel a twinge of annoyance or a brief longing to "do something about it".

I wasn't manifesting a dangerous form of body dysmorphia; I was just recognising that a quirk of genes had resulted in a couple of mismatching features and that, simply put, I would be prettier if they were "fixed". So when I unexpectedly inherited some money, I knew immediately what to spend it on. My family were very supportive. My mum a little nervous, my dad enthusiastic. I remember him laughing uproariously and saying mischievously, "are you going to have your ears done too?" (I have quite sticky out ears).

My surgeon was great. I went private – I wouldn't have felt comfortable using the NHS for what was essentially a vanity project. A psychological test confirmed the above – I was a normal, happy girl with no unrealistic expectations of my appearance. He pointed out my nose fits my face nicely as I have large features overall, so he wouldn't give me a "Nicole Kidman", as he put it. He was just going to file down the bump and refine its rather bulbous end and that was it. No extra selling, no lipo offers or 2-for-1 boobs.

He woke me briefly from my post-op sleep to show me my new nose before I swelled up like an obese hamster. I remember being thrilled in a hazy, drug-induced way. For the couple of days I was terrified of knocking the grafted "tip" off my nose; I'm sure the nurses got sick of me hitting the panic button and yelling: "Has it fallen off?!"

It took a year for the swelling to go down completely. I don't mind telling people I've had it done. My family said they could see huge difference in my confidence more than my appearance, and that's what mattered. I would consider surgery again; I've inherited my mum's side's eyes, which will get really baggy as I'm older. But I would be careful. I heard a nurse outside my door on the night after my operation, telling the girl taking over her shift that my blood pressure had dropped dangerously low during the operation. It did make me think. Ulitmately, I'm glad I had it done, but it's certainly not worth risking my life over.

I had cosmetic surgery when I was nine years old, when I had my ears pinned back. I was never presented with a choice about this and, as far as I know, I never asked to have it done – although looking at my baby photographs, it would only have been a matter of time. My ears were quite literally at right angles to my head.

People assume when they hear about the operation that my parents must have been very vain, or hung up on appearance, but nothing can be further from the truth. I was never made to feel ugly or imperfect; in fact, I'd not really thought about my ears at all before then. But my mother knew that as I got older I would care about such an obvious physical flaw, that it would upset me when I was an adult and even hold me back in life, so she took the decision to have it fixed before it could become a big deal to me. I am eternally grateful to her for taking that decision.

Because my mother had my ears fixed before I was old enough to be hung up on my appearance, it never affected me growing up. Had she waited until I was old enough to choose for myself, we'd have got to the same outcome – I would just have had to endure years of awkward adolescence beforehand.

If a parent is making a child feel they need surgery for a minor imperfection, then obviously I would have a problem with it. But my mother is proof that you can do something like this without forcing a child to carry that baggage. As a parent you have to take big decisions in order to give your kid the best start in life, and that's what my mother did. I would love to say that it really shouldn't matter what a person looks like, and it shouldn't – but it's easier to say that having grown up without one feature I absolutely hate. My mum weighed up the risks involved versus the benefits and, in my opinion, came to the right conclusion.

Like many women my age, I often look in the mirror and wish I looked 20 years younger. But, despite the wrinkles and the sagging, I know that I will never feel the need to undergo any cosmetic procedures, not even so much as a Botox injection. On turning 40, I decided that I wasn't going to engage in a losing battle with the ageing process, resorting to ever-more desperate measures to keep the years at bay.

Sadly, we've become obsessed with image to the point where many of us feel the need to undergo risky and painful surgical procedures just to conform to society's narrow definition of physical beauty. We're constantly bombarded by images of celebrities who've spent a fortune having their features sculpted to perfection, while erasing any signs of ageing. Now, we're seeing younger and younger women with inflated lips, mask-like faces, and grossly enlarged breasts. What's going to happen to them in 10 years time, when that particular look is starting to seem a bit dated? Changing your body is not as simple as revamping your wardrobe.

While plastic surgery is fast becoming the norm, almost an accepted rite of passage for some, it gets harder and harder to resist the pressure to conform. But for me, even a Botox treatment would signify defeat. I would be admitting that I didn't have the strength to accept growing older. Far better to face the future armed with the outward confidence that comes from feeling truly comfortable with my inner self. So I aspire to age like Patti Smith, not Barbara Windsor.